Salvation
by GorgoStark
Summary: What if Artemisia did not die at Salamis and someone took her from the battlefield? Can a new life heal the wounds of the past? Artemisia/Themistocles/OC. Kind of historical fanfiction in connection with the movie.
1. Slavation

**I wrote this one after I saw the movie in March, and I thought I should upload this : ) I loved the film and Artemisia – despite the huge errors of historical things in the film. Her character made me thinking, this is why I wrote this one. **

**Salvation**

Artemisia stood in front of Xerxes, reporting her victory over the Greek fleet. The king was pleased with the result – she was rather annoyed.

„Themistocles was… a worthless coward. And now his pathetic navy is under the sea – fulfilling their predictions."

How he annoyed her! This boy knows nothing about war or honesty, no. He never fought among his people – he is the coward one. But he was her only possibility to take vengeance on all of Greece. Yes, this only thing drove her for years, this only promise helped her to reach her current position and title. The title which helps her to reach her promise. And now, she stands on the ashes of Athens. She should feel at least some kind of happiness – but she only feels…empty. Oh, and anger towards _this_ pathetic god-king.

„That worthless coward has stood at my side and scolded your lovely fleet." – yeah, his fleet built from man, not from real soldiers.

As she stood with her back to Xerxes, a realization hit her.

She hated to admit that this man, this Themistocles…he caught the interest of her.

She remembered when she saw the Greek fleet: a pathetic attempt to keep back the Persian navy. It looked like an easy battle with few losses – oh, how wrong she was! When they lost the first battle, she raged in anger: her generals were so clumsy and careless that the Greek fleet found a gap in their defence and destroyed Bandari's ships. She executed him because of her wrath.

The second time they lost the battle (and another general, Kashani was killed) she wasn't surprised –Themistocles impressed her. He fought with such grace and passion she never saw. So, she decided to talk with him on that night – maybe she'll kill him, maybe she will keep her word. Xerxes can be easily convinced too. She couldn't help but feel the need of talking. With him. _No, you don't need to talk with anyone, you need to demand what they took away from you. _She quickly dismissed the idea - Artemisia wanted to win this war, regardless of what she has to do for it. So, she invited him into her ship that night.

Artemisia dressed up in a luxurious green-gold dress, made her hair perfectly and prepared to seduce the Greek commander. Every men can be corrupted, and the best weapon is womanity in this case. She hated the simple thought of it, but this must be done.

„…_And yet you still fight .So there must be…what? Family back home in Athens, then?" – she asked from him._

„_Truth is I have no have time for a family. I've spent my entire life with my one true love: the Greek fleet."_

His eyes looked deep into hers, searching for any trace of emotions – she feared he saw the glimpse of sympathy in her_. I came to take my revenge upon all Greece. I feel no sympathy for some Greek man._

The sex was not a good one, she was not enjoyed it. He just used her body like those men back at the ship a decade ago. But she had to try it in hope of winning the conflict. _Join me, _she said three times to him. Last time she said she was on top of him, pretending to enjoy their little…activity.

„_No."_ – he said.

Wrath invaded her mind – she threw him off of herself. _„You're no god, just a man." –_ referring to their previous, flattering talking about the Greeks.

She quickly grabbed a sword, ready to take his life. But he was not afraid. Themistocles just said: _„Lower your sword."_

He was right, she did not want to kill him on her ship, it would be a dishonest deed with such an impressive warrior.

„_You will not have your death tonight. Guards! Remove this filth from my ship." _

As the Immortals took him out she threw down the sword, tears in her eyes. He confused her. His act confused her. Of course she is not a stupid woman, but…he was never wanted to join her of course, then he just used her body? Or he found her nature repulsive that's why he changed his mind? _I made a fool, a whore out of myself._ She falied…as a woman? She had to put an end to this whole mess and march through all of Greece. She smiled – fire can deterge everything. She will burn this Themistockles for his arrogance. And for he treated her like an object. Artemisia give him enough time to get back to his camp.

The wildfire destroyed the Greek fleet – she was sure. Artemisia walked down in her ship with the feeling of victory.

But now, she stood in Xerxes's camp, thinking about the missed out chance. What if…_No it could never be!_

Suddenly, a…creature approached to them. She shivered – he was really ugly.

„My king! – he said, kneeling in the floor – The Greek fleet is defenseless in the vale of Salamis. You need only finish them." – the king looked at her questioningly.

„Who commands their forces?"

„Themistockles of Athens."

„Themistockles is dead." – he speaks so stupid things.

„He is alive. I've seen him myself."

Xerxes looked to her like a disappointed parent which just annoyed her more. So, if it's true he survived the fire. What a man! She has to fight with now face to face. It will be such an interesting combat.

„Ready my troops an armor. We will attack at advance." – she said to general Arthepernes.

„Wisdom! – it was Xerxes – You should send a troop to confirm it's not a trap."

She hated this god-king thing, she has regrets about sending him to the desert. An annoying, pompous prick! „Who dares to advise me in the matters of war?"

„I am the God King, I am the one who marched over Leonidas, I am the one who set fire to this city, Athens. I am your king!" – he looked so angry. _Let him come, I'll crush him too._

„Killing Leonidas and his men just only made them martyres. And when you rased Athens you set fire to the only thing value in this country."- she saw his hand rising and felt it in her cheek. She fell to the ground from the elan of his hit. It surprised her, he started to act like a king?

She stood up, tasting the blood in her mouth. „I will attack the Greeks with my entire navy."

„Artemisia, enough!"

„Don't forget who put the crown on your childish head! My king – and she bowed to him ironically – Now sit on your golden throne and watch this battle from the safe distance." – and she rushed to her fleet.

Her last words hit her too. Is she tired from fighting? Is she whises something else? But what would that be? No one could love her, no one could make her feel protected. She fought in her entire life for the promise of vengeance, now it is here.

Artemisia acted quickly when Darius died: she knew time has come, she will rise. The time has come to her to take revenge upon all Greece and burn it down to the ground. So, she manipulated Xerxes to attack the Greeks.

Sometimes she thought what could have happened with her in…a normal life. having a husband, being a wife, having kids?

_Now I can't think about that, I have a mission._ Yes, she can think of rejection, sadness, humiliation later, now she has to destroy Themistockles.

When Themistockles stabbed her in the battlefield she felt like the entire world would fall on herself. Her dream, her only dream slipped out from her hands and she panicked! No more killing, no defeating the Greeks…it can't be her end. Then a strange calmness filled her soul. The sea beneath her, the battle around her seemed to calm down too. She sighed as she watched Themistockles go away: he was loyal to his wrecked country, no one could corrupt him, not even her. And damnit, she enjoyed the battles with him.

As she felt death coming for her a thought was in her mind: a glorious death means salvation to her. Yes, this is! Death calmed her down – she will die in the field of battle for her own purpose – redeemed.

**What you think about this? Should I write about her more? To tell you the truth I love her character, I feel like I could write an entire fic about her : ) But she seems to be unpopular. So if anyone would be interested in some kind of more fiction about Artemisia, let me know! : )**


	2. Destroyer

**Yesss, I finished the one-shot about her and I uploaded it, so you can read it too : ) **

**So, I think I have to be careful with this one, because I did not live in ancient Persia or Greece (or I think, haha) so all I have is the history books and historical memorandums. I also want to mix the Persian and Greek mythology a little. So, if you have any suggestions don't be afraid and share them with me! : )**

**Saphirabrightscale****, I thank you for your review, you made my day! **

**Guest****, the same, thank you so much for your thoughts and, guess what happens to Artemisia : ) **

**Disclaimer****: I do not own anything recognizable character, all belongs to 300-Rise of an empire (or to History), nor the battle hymn.**

**2 – Destroyer**

The world was dark. It is always as dark as the nights at new moon and filled with dirt and sins. Loud noise surrounded her – the noises of assaults, defeat and victory. Death rattle, screams and victorious roarings. Strange but interesting mix of life. Some fall, some rise. But now – she guessed – she is the among the ones whom fell. Even is she is dying now, she still can hear the battle hymn, chanting by the Greeks. It was distant thunder, but she recognized it.

_Forward, sons of the Greeks,_

_Liberate the fatherland_

_Liberate your children, your women,_

_The altars of the gods of your fathers_

_And the graves of your ancestors:_

_Now is the fight for everything._

Artemisia tried to open her eyes but the woman saw nothing. Suddenly, a strange feeling repressed her: she lay on something…watery. But it was not water. She gathered all of her remaining strength and touched her clothes: it was blood. Maybe it was hers?

After the realization Artemisia felt she is rising from the ground, but she couldn't open her eyes, they were so heavy – but even when she opened them she saw nothing but darkness. Maybe Zahhak came to her personally. From this thought she wanted to laugh but she coughed from the blood in her mouth.

Artemisia almost fell asleep from the gentle rocking movements, it was like when her mother used to carry her. She still remembered her, after all these years. She remembered to her mother's long, beautiful dark brown hair, it reached her waist. Artemisia always asked when will she have such a long hair – her mother always smiled and said: soon. Ah, soon. But her hair never reached the length of her mother's hair. A shame.

Every woman has really dark, black hair in Persia. So, when she realized the importance of her appearance she dyed it to black with henna to look like a Persian woman. Aye, she wanted to belong to somewhere so badly. It was awful at first, her light, honey-brown hair disappeared an the new color just highlighted her pale skin. But as the time passed she noticed people found her new appearance quite endearing. The color gave her strength and firmness – and she looked like a true Persian.

Why are these thoughts plaguing her mind? Is she dead now? Obviously not, she is still alive, this is why she has these thoughts. But…oh. Themistocles. The man who stabbed her in the stomach. In this brief four days she started to like him. And that bastard knew that, the man destroyed her. _Equals._ She hated to admit, but she knew it was the truth. Maybe in an another life… She quickly dismissed the idea, it was just a pointless, painful reminder of what she could be.

Suddenly she opened her eyes and saw the stormy sky above her. She felt hands on her shoulders and on her back – so someone carrying her. If she would be healthy, she'd slap the person across the face for carrying her, but now she has one thing on her mind: this man stealing her from death. _Let me die, let me die here,_ she wanted to scream but no voice came from her throat. Artemisia tried to speak again:

„Where do you…taking me?" – she barely managed to say this sentence, her whole body was in an agonizing pain.

„Away."

And where are you taking me? – she wanted to ask, because she did not recognize the voice. But really, does it matter now? The invasion failed, the Greeks are winning the battle – judging from the hymn. And she failed, and now some unknown man taking her away. Panic ran through her body, she wanted to fight so badly, but everything went black again.

**I know it's a really short one, but it's just an explanation for the coming events. What do you think, who took her? : )**


	3. Reality

**Stella**: Thank you for your kind words made me really happy! I hope all fan will enjoy this story, I'm trying to create an interesting tale.

**Warning**: English is not my mother tongue, so I'm sure I made a lot of mistakes…I'm trying to find a Beta too, but no one writes back to me in this case :/ Yeah, I'm miserable : ) So, if anyone could recommend a Beta to me, I'd be really, really glad!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything from the 300-Rise of an empire movie.

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**3-Reality**

Artemisia fell asleep right after _that_ someone told her they are going far away from Salamis, from the battle. Her last thought was no, no she does not want to go, she want to die there. Life would be miserable after this defeat, Xerxes would definitely punish her or worse.

She acted recklessly, and look what happened: her fleet was destroyed, they lost the battle (judging from the Greek hymn), probably she got a fatal wound,and now these people taking her away. Again. How it happened _again_?

_The ship carried her away from her home. Home? Home no longer exists it's just a distant glimmer of light, a broken promise of safety and future. And yet this vanishing light is her only hope, a sanctuary where she flees from reality. Reality is…disgusting. She has to give her body to every kind of man, and she gets beating and humiliating words in return. _

_Artemisia tried to escape once – not with much success. The captain noticed her running at the floor so he captured her. She kicked screamed, tried to escape or waited for someone to come and rescue her, but her hopes hopes were shattered when the captain dragged her back to he is an excessive word for what she did, her legs were aching from the chains as well as her arms, so she couldn't be a fast runner. And the saliors were much stronger than her. And that beating she got because of her action…she will never forget it. Her eyes were swollen and bloody from the man's fists, her nose was completely broken, her jaw was cracked as well as several ribs in her left side. Yeah, the man kicked her in the stomach and in the ribs when she fell down from the blows she received into her face. And her legs got these treatments too. But the girl even did not weep – those times are gone when she would shead a tear._

_She couldn't eat for a whole day after the incident. However they brought her bread and water._

_Athens as a sanctuary? Hardly. The captain was an Athenian too, then why he acted the way he did? Bastards. Evils. The girl was a human wreck. She fainted several times when the captain surely had had enough from her, so he threw her out to the harbor. Threw out…like she was a piece of rubbish. _

_He murmured something to her, but she did not listen it, the only thing she was thinking about: free. Freedom. She released from the wooden prison –not like the way she wanted to, but the result was the same: she was out. Mayhap she will die when the sun will come up, but who cares? She can die as a free person, away from the ship. _

The sun gently greeted Artemisia and the bad dream went away. The woman shivered from the memories and sighed when she realized what is the reality – yes, the pain in her stomach is a very good reminder. She slowly opened her eyes but she saw nothing. Is she hallucinating, the fever caused it? _I hope so._ But, she felt actual pain for moments, she had a dream and she recognized the hot, burning feeling of the sun. It means…she is not dead. She is a _living_ person. She closed her eyes in defeat – even death could not take her away from this miserable world. Xerxes surely will take her head for the failure back in Greece, no matter what she will say.

She sighed again, when a memory came to her mind: Themistocles. He stabbed her at the ship - yes, she remembered him. She was alive, it means he did his job in a bad way. She decided to take a look at her wound, but her vision was still blurred so she had to touch her abdomen. Artemisia realized she even had a blanket – _what a generous management. _As her hands slipped down…literally, bandages held together her body. From the realization her heart began to beat in a very fast rhythm and she began to sweat. Is she a cripple now or what? Death would be a thousand times better.

They lost the war. Her vengeance is lost too, she probably lost her title as a commander, she lost her entire fleet, she lost her became overwhelmed with guiltiness, that she was not doing enough for her family, she could not avenge their death. The woman felt tears in her eyes, and the damned tears fell down on her cheeks.

Suddenly, she heard noises. Someone is out there or want to come in to her. Artemisia opened her in vain, she saw nothing. If it's an assassin then be it, she could be free again. But…why would anyone send here an assassin after treating her so well?

Artemisia heard that someone entered to the area and slowly walked to her. She heard the crystal sound of water – someone brought her water.

She hissed because the person who stood above her was put a cold, watery rag onto her forehead and gently cleaned her face with it as well. The woman sighed, it felt like heaven. She had a fever, judging from the shivering of her body. And she felt a cup placed in front of her mouth – she hardly managed to rise her had. The man wanted to help her but she indignantly pushed away the helping hands. She began to drink too fast and coughed – ot was harder than she thought. Artemisia hated being helpless. The woman lay back defiantly with an annoyed sigh and focused on her hearing. The helping person placed a cup of water (it has to be water) to her left, and checked her wounds.

The person raised the blanket and she shivered again – the air was too cold for her now.

„Who…?" - who are you, she wanted to say but the sudden pain left her speechless.

It was a burning-like feeling, like her enire body would be ripped open, she felt a thousand needle on her skin. The pain was almost unbearable, but she decided not to scream – she just gritted her teeth with all the force she had. But she did not have to concentrate for long, she fainted again.

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**Yes, I know a short one again. Please, be patinet! And I decided to write about 'tell about her life in Persia' thing too, to understand her more. I promise tomorrow – or the day after - you'll know who is this 'person'.**


	4. Savior

**Stella****: Thank you again for the review! : )**

**And I'm so sorry for not posting this yesterday, I had problems with the Word program…and I had to rewrite this chapter, so yeah, I turned into a frantic monster : )**

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**4 - Savior**

The sun woke her up again. Artemisia groaned sullenly and opened her eyes. And she realized she got back her eyesight again! The woman saw the bed she lay on, saw the white walls and the jug which was beside her, and she saw the whole room. She lifted up her hands and examined them as a little child, then she touched her face too – it felt like a living body. That's it, she is alive, she is not dead. The realization saddened her. Truth be told she craved for death at the battlefield, when she when she heard Themistocles' words.

_I would rather die as a free man, not as a slave. Even if the chain was attached to you._

Of course, the fanatic democracy-bringer, the defender of biassed, false ideas, Themistocles stood up against her – and he won. _Why_? Because she let him won, that's why.

_As she was listening the Spartans chanting, the Greek man in front of her offered a chance to disappear. _

'_I could lower my sword…There is still time for you to escape. That would be a poor choice, to force my hand into action. Now order your ships to disengage and surrender to me.'_

_That was the very moment when she realized her cause is lost. She is surrounded by Greek ships, she let him took her swords – just for the fun - 'Surrender?' – and Artemisia knew what she had to do: let him kill her. At least, she will die gloriously on the battlefield. A little consolation for her poisoned soul._

Someone entered to her room and she immediately tried to get up, but the sharp pain in her stomach prevented this action. A woman, no a girl stood in front of her, her brown eyes stared to her. She is afraid, Artemisia saw that. She could turn it to her benefit, she thought. But as the black haired woman examined the young girl in front of her…something was wrong. She wore a different dress than a Persian servant. This girl wore a pokey, white peplos. _No, it can't be…_

„Where I am?!" – she tried suppress the panic in her voice, and the girl almost screamed because of her hoarse and furious voice. Good.

„Answer me wench, where I am?! I demand answers!"

But the little girl was frightened, she froze for a moment, then suddenly turned on her heel and quickly left the room.

„Come back you insolent wench!" – and don't leave me alone, she wanted to say. But no, Artemisia would never admit that she has feelings or fears. No, never. So instead of falling into a deep, dark hole, she continued to yell but no one came to her.

She sighed in annoyment, the woman felt as a cripple – she can't stand up, the wound is too fresh and sensitive. So, she is in Greece. A strange feeling started to form in her gut and she felt her stomach flich: she was nervous. Very, very nervous indeed. _Try to think about something,_ she thought, _try to think_ a_bout something_ _which calmes you down._

Being a student under the supervision of Dâtuvahya, spending the day with endless fighting and listening the mighty theories about the empire and spying on the other students…This was her life after that man found her at the harbor. And she was afraid to admit it, but she loved this period of her life. People thought the Persians are nothing but a barbaric, dirty nation whom do not know their place in this world. Oh, but these people are wrong. This is the world's biggest and mightiest empire, the culture is amazing, and it's army could easily raid over all of Europe too. Or, all of Greece…

Artemisia knew she owed him with her life, so tried to impress him every day. The girl spent most of the day with him, fighting against him and memorize his every word about this new place, the Persian Empire.

He gave her food, clothes and a home, in return she was the most enthusiastic student of him, and later she gave him a lot of injury during combats in return. And soon she became his best student.

8-year-old Artemisia wanted nothing more than to go back to her home. But the 13-year-old Artemisia just frowned at this idea – no, she will never return to Athens, just when she will be able to destroy it and slaughter everyone in that city-state. This idea become her final goal in her life, and soon she realized she is in the best position to reach it.

She and Dâtuvahya moved to Pārsa – the Great king Darius just finished the building of this city and he demanded his mentor to the City of Persians. During the years they developed a special relation. It was not friendship nor love of course, it was more like…a father and daughter, a commander and his most trusted general relationship. She admired him, he was almost like a god to her. Truth be told, the man was really strict and crafty, but when the adult-Artemisia joked him he just said be careful, he is going to slap her for her behavior – but he never hit her. Mayhap because he hated the idea of abusing women. Oh yes, once he told her this because he wanted her to be comfortable around him.

Life in the Persian Emipre was easy for her – his mentor gave her a place to live in, food and clothes, ideas and theories to turn into a real Persian in heart, prestige, but his biggest gift was the knowledge about martial arts and weapons. The sword – her strength.

She was interrupted again when she heard quivk footsteps coming to her. She took a deep breath and she prepared for every kind of evil and worse. But when she saw the man…

He entered in the room with an annoyed expression, like he has no clue what is he doing. He wore his noble, white, rich khitōn. Oh, and he wore it with such a pride! Artemisia's heart skipped a beat. No, that can't be…

„Themistocles." – she barked with her hoarse voice. Probably she did not use it in the last days.

„Artemisia. You are awake, my servant had informed me. She said you are in good shape, you insulted her. – oh, that pathetic girl. He sighed and stepped closer to her and touch her temple. This act made her shiver, she found his hand to be so gentle, not like the type of man who fights with swords. Strange – Your fever is subsided."

She tried to laugh but went to a pathetic cough. A shame. „I'm awake and I'm well. But you think it's good for you?"

He stood in front of her bed, looking at her with those burning eyes „I did not decide it yet."

„You tended my wounds to send me to an execution? Shame on you." – she closed her eyes, talking is hard after such a long time in silence.

„No. I have another plans for you in Athens."

She immediately opened her eyes and felt the nervousness in her stomach. It's a nightmare! „So, I'm in Athens? But it's in ruins."

„We are rebuilding it. – his eyes stared into hers for a long time. – rest now, my servant will keep an eye on you."

„Wait!" – she yelled after him and Themistocles halted, but not turned to her.

„Why? I want to know why." – why you stabbed me, why you brought me to here, she wanted to ask, but these are heavy words, even for her.

But the man did not answer her, he just stepped out and closed the door.


	5. Let the game begin

**Oh yes, finally some conversation! : )**

**I came up with the idea that I should give a name to the man who raised and trained Artemisia, so I thought Dâtuvahya will be a fine name to him (prev. chapter).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Artemisia or Themistocles, they belong to the 300-Rise of an empire movie.**

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**5 – Let the game begin**

Wrath took over the control of Artemisia's mind, she wanted to get up and slaughter every man alive in this city, especially Themistocles. This bastard stabbed her, literally stole her from Persia and he did not let her die. Furthermore, he brought her into the lion's den and who knows how many people know that she is here. And, on top of that, he said he has plans for her – what an idiot, how dare he think she will obey to him?

But always think positive: she is closer to her aim in this way. Truth be told, nausea came over her when the fact came to her mind that she is lying in an Athenian bed in _Athens_, but it will be easier to sack this city again with lies and intrigues. For a moment she was thinking about to write a letter to Xerxes and tell him she is a captive here, but Artemisia quickly dismissed the idea. She needs no one, she can do this alone. Besides she was sure that the spoiled, childish king of the Persian Empire would certainly use his 'divine power' to punish her. Artemisia sighed, she messed up everything when she placed Xerxes to the throne, and when he whipped the Hellespontus and violated the Persian corpses… From the thought she placed a hand to her face, she covered it like she wanted to cover the shame she felt toward the man. It does not matter anymore, he was just a tool for her to reach her goal.

Artemisia took a deep breath and tried to get up, but it wasn't easy, her whole body was numb, probably from the too much sleeping. So, she cautiously placed one leg to the floor, put all of her weight to her arms and shoulders and tried to pull herself up. It was a painful motion but she ignored it, so the woman turned and put down her another leg to the floor, supporting herself with her arms again. She stopped for a moment and took another deep breath, then she quickly rose to her feet. It was a mistake, she groaned in pain and stopped immediately – the stitches were big and too fresh to be able to walk with them. Sweat covered her forehead as she slowly made her way to the door, but after few steps the woman felt terribly exhausted. Another wave of anger came and she screamed in frustration – being weak was the worst part of life for her, and now she is pathetic, wounded and her physical strength disappeared. _Why didn't he let me die? It's torture – _she thought.

Artemisia heard quick footsteps coming to her, and when the person opened the door vehemently she almost fell down to the floor from the elan. Oh, it was the servant girl, the little wench. She looked terrified, her huge brown eyes stared at her in shock. Long moments passed when Artemisia decided she had had enough from the silence.

„What? You came to help me, wench? You'd better turn and go back to where you came from."

She spat with a wrathful a voice, but the girl just ignored her statement and grabbed her by the hands and led her back to the bed. When she lay back the girl checked her forehead.

„You have a fever."

Artemisia raised an eyebrow „Who are you wench, some medic?"

The girl looked at her while she placed a cold, watery rag to her forehead.

„I've learned how to heal the diseases of the body."

„But your precious fellow citizens says diseases are the punishments of the Gods. Do you believe it, wench?"

The little girl shot her an angry glare „In _your_ case, yes, I believe it."

Artemisia chuckled „Wow, you are insulted by my presence. It must be so hard for you. I've killed so many people from your city"

„I just find it hard to deal with my brother's killer and tend her wounds."

So, she killed her brother at Salamis. „Tell me wench, the food you brought me…Is it poisoned?"

Artemisia saw the anger in the girl's eyes and she felt touched by it. She has some courage to speak against her. Well, that's something, her lips curled up in a small smile.

„No, it's not poisoned. And I have a name, I am not a wench!"

„And what is it?"

„Ione."

Artemisia raised an eyebrow at that – a nymph's name. But the name described her well, she has big brown eyes with honeybrown hair, a fragile, small body with pale skin. She looked so young and innocent. Hell, she was the most innocent-looking girl Artemisia ever saw. She did not like it, she felt the urgency of teaching her a little. But as she opened her mouth to speak, the girl quickly stood up and stormed out from the room.

_Silly little wench._ Artemisia grabbed the food she brought and ate with a huge appetite. When was the last time she ate? The fruits were fresh and sweet,narcotic, they were like the finest wine.

Then a sad thought came to her mind: she killed her brother. Artemisia felt an unfamiliar feeling in her gut, why, what is this? The little girl lost just only one person, not her entire family, and war is war, people has to die in battles. And she can not compare her loss to hers, who lost her full family, thanks to the Hoplites. It happened twenty years ago…The fire destroyed their house too, her father evacuated her mother and the little, scared girl too before the building collapsed. Once when they were in the streets she saw soldires slaughtering the poor citizens and the little Artemisia was terrified, paralyzed by fear. Her father noticed it and grabbed her an ran to the corner with her, her mother was running behind them. She rested her head on her father's shoulder and stared at her mother with tears in her eyes. _'Don't be afraid my child, me and your father and you will be safe when the sun comes up, I promise.'_ She was wrong. She was so wrong.

„Are you awake?"

She immediately opened her eyes and turned her head to the sound's direction. How she managed to fall asleep so quickly? Ah, and it was Themistocles, her personal beast nowadays. He wore his blue chlamys, demonstrating he is a soldier. What a pompous bastard!

„Now, yes."

Her voice carried the wrath which filled her inside. Artemisia was afraid if he comes closer she will try to kill with her bare hands. But the beast came closer. The man took his steps carefully and slowly while he was examining her with his eyes. But the feverish woman stood his gaze, she did not even blinked. He changed direction in the last moment before he had to sit down to her bed, so he turned and sat to the chair which was the nearest thing to her bed. Hm, circling like a snake. _A snake arrives, walking as if human. _

„How are you?"

She shrugged „I know you are not here because of how I heal, you want something from me. Say it, it will be easier to both of us, Themistocles."

The man laughed a little „You are a practical woman. And you not appreciate your current position either."

Artemisia took a deep breath and tried not to strangle him. After all, she cannot afford pompousness now. So, instead of trying to kill him she just rolled her eyes.

„And you look so relieved. Not like on the field of battle."

His face darkened, she knew she hit a sensitive point.

„I hardly believe anyone would feel relieved when he sees how his men falling into the Aegean with arrows and swords on their back."

Yes, it was his most sensitive side she realized. Good, maybe she can turn this against him.

„So I made the hero of Marathon, the Greek national hero tremble. You can't deny my skills in war, then."

He leaned closer to her and whispered: „No. But I can't deny your foolishness either. Why you forced me to almost kill you?"

„Why you saved me if I forced you into action? In hope of…ransom, lands or you just brought me here to heal me and then have the pleasure to see me torn apart into pieces on the streets just for some fun? Or just simply want to torture me?" – she shot back immediately.

Long, silent moments fell upon them, and it was a sinister silence. She wanted to scream let me die, kill me and such things but she forced herself into the covering silence. It was Themistocles who broke words sooner.

„I feel sorry for you and.."

But she did not let him finish his words, she replied in complete anger.

„I don't want your pity, I've never wanted anyone to feel sorry for me! Especially not a Greek man. If your only motivation was pity, then let me die or kill me right now because I don't want to live just because someone took pity on me."

Artemisia said these words with such hatred and venom that she felt tears in her eyes, but no, she won't let them fall into her cheeks, not in front of him! Death is so much better than pity… But when she looked up she realized themistocles already stood up to take his leave. He looked at her again with his brown eyes. Eyes which will haunt her in her dreams, she was sure.

„I do not want you to die and I won't let it happen. You deserve better. You deserve…redemption."

And he walked out from the room like yesterday, leaving her speechless. Salvation, redemption? How foolish he is!

Artemisia couldn't sleep on that night, the conversation echoed in her ears. Themistocles is clearly up to something, but what would it be? She highly doubted that he doing it only for her, it's ridiculous, how could anybody be concerned with her well-being, with her life? He is playing something. And she has a certain mission but now she is in a vulnerable position so she has to play with Themistocles if she wants achieve her goal. Two can play that game and she was willing to join.


	6. Of enemies and power

**The story is heading to a historical way with some drama, hope you like it! I also hope you will share your thoughts with me about the events : )**

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**6 – Of enemies and power**

Winter has finally arrived to Greece. The desolation of war spreaded through the country, especially in Themistocles' city. Athens is in ruins, ashes replaced the huge statues' and the Agora's place, which once stood proudly in the middle of the city, proclaiming the democracy and freedom. The food supplies almost ran out, his remaining people were starving but no one said a word about it. Turth be told, they knew the current state of the city, but the citizens were willing to return to their homeland and rebuild what the Persian horde took away from them. Themistocles was not surprised when he heard the will of his folk, this nation is a pertinacious, survivor one. A real fighter nation, and Themistocles was proud of them.

The winds of spring will carry a new battle, he was sure. Xerxes' pride was fatally wounded, he was thirsty of Greek blood. Mardonius was in Thessaly, waiting for the Greek attack, meanwhile the tension was visible between the Allies, the Persians took the chance to turn the states against each other. Some cities blamed Athens for this war, some of them already stood in the side of the barbarians. Queen Gorgo of Sparta aided only her city's territory, and Naxos was in ruins too.

Despite of the circumstances, he is so close to reach his goal, he won't give it up, not now. He just needs to win this war, and whole Athens will be his. Maybe he could create the United Greece too after he becomes leader. He sighed and flashed a little smile to himself – rise. A little money goes here and there and the people will worship him as the father of the homeland. But if they'd loose the war…well, he has plans for this option too. He already talked with the Persians, sent word to king Xerxes about his persecution and he hoped the king will value this deed if Themistocles needs to flee from Greece. And there was a certain hostage…

„Themistocles, wait!"

He heard from behind and when he turned he was more than surpirsed when he saw Aristides. The man was his enemy from the moment they knew each other but Themistocles was willingly put aside his wrath toward him when the Persians attacked Greece - he knew he needed him to win - he'll have time to deal with him later.

His brown hair was a mess, his hands were covered in dust. The man was a bit older than him…but he was not as smart as Themistocles.

„Yes, Aristides?"

„I have news…" – but he fell silent. Themistocles saw fear in his eyes and he became nervous.

„Then break words quickly."

„Alexander coming here, he wants to offer peace in the name of the Persian Empire."

Themistocles' heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned around to see who heard it. Probably no one, people were too busy with building.

„How you know about this?"

„The spies reported it to me. We should come to terms with them, don't you think? After Salamis.."

„No, we won't live on our kneels! Are you mad, did you forgot why we are doing this war? – he leaned closer to Aristides and looked into his eyes in an angry manner – the barbarians attacked us because we helped our Ionian brothers to fight for their freedom ten years ago. We are the nation of freedom, we helped the rebellion in Minor-Asia, and you suggest to bend the knee for Xerxes?"

He had to talk silently, people were watching the two. This pathetic man, this Aristides is a coward. People called him the Just. Well, if the'd only knew what kind of justice he is planning for them.

Now the man looked annoyed and spoiled he clearly thought Themistocles would agree in his plan.

„Don't forget what you've done, who resting in your house, Themistocles. Maybe she can be a reason for another attack. I can't believe what kind of trouble you brought on us."

„I have my reasons, and she will appear in front of the Court where I can bring her justice.."

„Ah _you_. You, not the citizens she destroyed. – he gave a low chuckle to him – You clearly a democratic person." – he said sarcastically.

Themistocles took a deep breath and tried not to slap him. After all, he made piece with Aristedes, he was the one who suggested to take the position as the commander of the army, now he should show to the hero of Salamis a little respect. What a bastard!

„Go now, prepare things for Alexander's coming."

And Themistocles left Aristedes standing in the middle of the Agora. How he wished to kill this annoying man! He showed no respect toward him, he just brought up the old wounds of the past.

Artemisia hated this weather, it reminded her of that night when the Hoplits took away her family away from her. It was a winter's night, filled with political wrath…She quickly dismissed the idea, the woman tried so hard to not to think about them. But how could she forget her own family. She sighed as she remembered the past days. That girl, Ione helped her to recover from the injuries and she sometimes sat in the chair, trying to talk to her. Artemisia sometimes wanted to reply, she wanted to communicate with someone, to tell secrets and fears, simple things and wishes, but in truth she did not know how to do it or she did not want to talk. Sometimes she just wanted to run away from this world. She never had friends, she never desired one. The 17-year-old Artemisia thought friends are just barriers, and no one would keep her secrets if she'd choose to tell them to anyone. And she was never familiar with the term 'trust'. Trust no one but yourself, this was her faith. And it perfectly worked through the years, she did not understand why she wanted to talk now so badly to someone. But her inner voice whispered no, shut up your mouth and plan their assassination.

„How are you?"

Ione asked her probably for the thousandth time. As Artemisia took a better look on her she saw the old, young Artemisia in her: honeybrown hair, fragile body with a huge smile and an innocent demeanor. The raven haired woman always felt the need of lecturing her about life, but since she learned she killed her brother, Artemisia just wanted to act in a normal way with her.

Ione always checked her fever, stayed with her when her temperature was so high she couldn't see, and the girl always changed the bandages on her belly.

„Good, I can feel the skin around the scar. I assume I can start to train again."

The scar was ugly as big as her palm, looked like a burn injury. But of course, they burned it to prevent any kind of infection. She often had a fever, due to the burning and the herbals she drank, but it started to pass as well as the pain, and she was able to take a walk on her own without help.

„Not be so vehement, you have to rest more. Yesterday you walked a lot, it's a miracle you did not faint when you returned."

Walked a lot? But she just walked in the house like a ghost, discovering the hero's house. It was built around a courtyard, and when she saw the altar to Hestia she almost laughed out loud. The savior of Greece is a religious man, after all. It was strange, his house was like he had a wife, or children, because upstairs there was a gynaicon – or maybe he just liked to make clothes? This thought made her chuckle too, it was clear the man planned something in the past which ended in a wrong way, or it just simply never came. Interesting.

„What you know about combat? Have you ever held a sword in your pretty little hands?" - she said with an annoyed tone, she never tolerated when someone questioned her.

Ione's face reddened and her eyes became watery from the scolding. Oh, the fragile girl will brust into tears? Oh no, she hated when someone cried in front of her, the awkwardness and the pathetic sobbings…but she should be act nomally with her, damnit.

„No, I never held a sword."

„And you don't want to try it?" – Artemisia asked, trying to lead a normal conversation.

„No."

„Why not?" – she was really curious now.

Ione took a deep breath and said „It's an ugly, wicked invention, made for killing and take away valuable lifes. I don't want to learn how to use it. Never."

Artemisia raised an eyebrow at that. She never saw weapons from this point of view, she saw them as beautiful, perfect creations of humanity.

„And if someone wants to kill you, or rape you? What would you do, you'd use your honor as a defense?"

She asked this from pure curiosity, the woman did not want to provoke her, but the girl was nervous again.

„It won't happen with me, I always praying to Dikē and Eirene to bring justice, safety and peace for me and for Greece. They will protect me if they hear my prayers, they will have mercy on me."

Ione snapped at her and Artemisia became nervous too. How can she be so blind? Yes, one single prayer will save her life. She chuckled, but her eyes carried deathly wrath.

„When I was a little girl and the Greeks took me away and murdered my parents I thought I had to do what they taught me: praying. I thought if I pray through the night and day, if I pray hard the Gods will give my parents back. – she sat up in her bed and looked deep inside Ione's golden eyes – I've prayed for nearly a year, and the Gods did not give me back my family. After that, I prayed for my own life, to set me free from that nightmare I lived in, but nothing happened. The God's don't have mercy, this is why they Gods, little girl. You should learn how to defend yourself with a weapon, not with empty words."

Her last words were filled with venom, she visulaized in her mind the ship she was held a long time ago. From the memory she began to sweat and grin like an animal. She hated when it was so visible.

Ione looked down to the floor, she was probably offended by Artemisia's words. She did not want to hurt the girl, just wanted to give her a lesson, that' all. What's the problem with it?

„What kind of Gods you pray to in Persia?" – she asked.

Artemisia looked up, she literally froze from the question. There was a time when she prayed a lot in Persia, because her prayers were answered. Later, she found it a stupid habit, her fate depends on only her acts, only herself, not on the empty words, murmured to some kind of God. But she wanted to answer her, she needed to talk to someone, she desperatedly wanted to talk! And Ione needed lessons too.

„We don't have huge altars or temples, we don't believe the Gods has a human shape. The magus offers sacrifice to the sun, moon, fire, water and to the winds. We believe the fire has a divine power, therefore we never burn corpses we can't let the fire to be a dirty thing…"

Ione looked shocked and interrupted her „Then what you do with the dead? Bury them?"

„No, we only bury the kings and queens, they building tombs for themselves in their lives. The lower people usually give the bodies to the animals. Being burned after death is a huge punishment."

Ione looked like she wanted to vomit from the facts Artemisia said to her – she almost regretted telling her about these customs.

„It's not so bad as it seems…"

„No bad? Dogs eating the one you once loved, and you say it's not bad. It's terrible!"

Awkward silence fell upon them and Artemisia wanted to ease the tension, she wanted to talk. For nearly a month she could not use her voice, now it felt so good. And company was good too, however she could find better. The woman found it odd, to craving for company, once she would just laugh at that.

Footsteps interrupted the silence, and when Themistocles appeared in the door, Ione quickly stood up and rushed out from the room.

Themistocles wore a white chiton, his body lost in his blue cloak. He looked troubled and nervous what happened? They did not talk since his ominous statement, she was sure he was pryed on Ione.

Artemisia had a lot of time to think a little. She wanted to die so badly a month ago, she held no interest in life anymore. Not that she changed a lot, she hated the fact she is in Athens, she hated Themistocles, and she did not want to know what happens next.

„She always runs out if you appear. Why, you find her too low person to be worthy of the mighty Greek hero?" – she asked with a fake, vicious smile, waiting for some retort. Instead of yelling with her he sat down to the edge of her bed. Not good.

„You stayed too long with the Persians. Women cannot stay with men in the same room, unless the man is her husband or the woman is a servant."

She raised an eyebrow at that „And wich one I am, according to your custom?"

He cracked a little smile, and it annoyed Artemisia. She just hated this pompous man! Acting like the king of all Greece, confident and boastful. How she wanted to break him! Soon, upon a day…

„Neither. But you are my guest…"

„Guest? Is that what you call stabbing stealing someone, taking her as a hostage, ha? You are wrong Themistocles. I'm healing fast now, and if you believe I'll stay here with you from my own will…you are very wrong."

As she whispered the last words she realized the man truly believed his own words: he looked offended. What, is everyone offended by her nowadays?

„Yes, you are my guest. Since you here I'm trying to campaign beside you, not against you. I healed you, and never said a bad word to you. And what I get for it? Evil words from a snake's mouth."

She went silent, and studied his face. Something was wrong she could tell. And Artemisia remebered he said he want to bring her redemption, which was clearly a trap. But she has to play the game with him, to know everything about him and his intentions which may she could use against him. Play the game.

„I see something troubles you." – and what about the mob which knew her current position?

Themistocles took a deep breath „I will bring you to the Court and you'll get your justice."

Artemisia's jaw tensed and she froze for a moment. So, this is the end, the Athenians will torn her apart alive in the Agora. Such an ugly death. Her hopes of the better future immediately faded and she lowered her head, staring the blanket. She knew there was no way to run away, she was not strong enough.

„So, this is why you held me here, to have the pleasure seeing my body ripped open in the middle of Athens. – she smiled bitterly – I'd never thought you are such an avanger, Themistocles."

„I'm not vengeful over you. – he sighed and paused for a moment – I will need your help in the upcoming events, Artemisia. The court is just a joke, I'll lead it, you think I could sentence you to death? You not good to me dead, I need you alive."

So, that's it. Why, what she expected? Roses with kisses? Of course he wanted to use her. She wanted to kick him until he breathes, slit his throat…but she had to play the game.

„I assume you did not paid for anyone at the court." – sarcasm came from her words and the man smiled a bit.

„I have my ways."

She immediately turned to face with him „As I have mine."

They looked into each other's eyes for long moments and she searched someting in Themistocles' eyes. Pride and power refelected in his brown eyes – but what seemed in hers? Broken, emptiness, wrath? She did not know, but the woman paid no mind for it.

„Fear not, you won't die I promise."

„Of course. I'm in the protection under the national hero, themistocles. No harm will come to me."

_And what if I want to die, dear Themistocles?_ Or have vengeance….Death and vengeance, the two sweetest thing in this world. She could start it with Themistocles.


	7. Phoenix

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**Sorry for the delay, I just got lost in the story a little, but I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter all.**

**Kotinos****: olive wreath, the winner of the Olympic games received this gift.**

**7 – Phoenix**

She worshipped Aegeus, the man was always like a God to her. Ione remembered as they used to play in the fields, and Aegeus always won, he was much faster and stronger than her. He was the biggest pride of their family. Of course he was, she remembered when Aegeus brought a kotinos from Olympia - he won the wrestling competition. Whole Athens celebrated his victory, people brought gifts to them in the middle of the nights, he could not walk on the streets without people's felicitations and the citizens gave them magnificent clothes and foods. Ione's family was never the richest one in Athens, but after these gifts their lives turned into a better direction, and the whole city worshipped him.

But Aegeus died, his body sank down to the Aegean. How mysterious, his name comes from this sea, and the sea wanted him back. He died in the middle of a wildfire – the fire, created by Artemisia.

Ione tried not to hate this woman, after all she was just a wounded soldier like the others she found on the shore, she needed tendance. She was more than furious when Themistocles told his secret to her, Ione wanted to beat Artemisia to death, to torture her for days or just simply take her revenge upon her. Days after, she managed to calm down and realized that another corpse, another death cannot bring back his Aegeus. She can't take blood for blood, the Gods will take care of the woman's fate, Ione just a simple mortal who cannot decide the fate of a person. The girl tried to keep her ideas and dismissed the thought of poisoning too. The Gods or the Court will bring justice for her fallen brother who is in the fields of the Elysium by now.

The morale was quite sinister since Themistocles told in front of the Court who is his guest, and the fact he gave her shelter made a rebellion among the people. Ione wondered when will the angry mob appears in front of the door and demand Artemisia. The girl secretly cursed Themistocles – they have enough problems now: the city is in ruins, the alliance between the city-states is weak, another Persian attack threatening them and _that_ Alexander coming to Athens, and at last, this evil woman sleeps in the same house with her, a possible source of inner-rebellion. She closed her eyes and tried to think about the peaceful times, but she saw only corpses and ashes.

* * *

Themistocles snores. Artemisia found this out last night when she heard strange noise coming from the next room and when the woman realized what is this sound she start to laugh histerically. The hero snores!

She wandered around the house, her footsteps echoed through the long corridor melancholically. The woman hated to admit but she realized she cannot take the city alone, she needs allies to destroy it again. If only she could tear apart the Allies with secrets and hidden whispers…But how can she send a letter to Xerxes when this Ione and the mighty Themistocles are always watching her? And what people thinks about her in the Empire? They probably belive she is dead, or Xerxes would certainly punish her for her failure. She took a deep breath in hope of finding the right plan…but damnit, good plan is not exists in this situation. She is a hostage, a simple toy in this place without a single hope for escape. The only hope is Themistocles.

But if she just thought about this man the situation seemed much worse. During the days she managed to learn some details about his life – she talked with him because of the game, she hoped she could trick him somehow if she learns how Themistocles works, but there was no way. And, Artemisia felt something similiar she once felt towards King Darius: respect. As the woman regained her memories again and tried to approach to Themistocles in hope of finding a way to escape she could not deny the growing respect toward him. However she would never admit it, maybe with 'You are a fool' comment. The man sacrificed everything to became a leader and defeat the Persian army and he fought with such passion and grace she never seen in her life. He took the opportunity and stole her in hope some kind of advance too. Artemisia did not belive he brought her here from mere pity or good heart, he heas plan but she cannot guess what it is, for God's sake! It annoyed her more than the fact she is in Athens. Maybe in another life they could be more than enemies, but too much things happened with both of them recently. She took another deep breath and decided to speak with him and try to find a way into his brain again. Oh, and the hatred did not disappear either. She spent the nights with thinking about her mission and her past, how she hated herself for failing. And she hated herself because Artemisia failed to seduce Themistocles – this thing always appeared in her mind when she was talking with him, she is nothing than a big failure.

He was sitting in the yard, watching the rainy sky – this winter is rainy, but the people did not stop the rebuilding of their city, they were simply not interested in the weather or in the lack of food.

The court will bring justice for Artemisia tomorrow, and Themistocles knew what will be the sentence Of course he knew, he arranged it with some money. He grinned as he thought about those pompous, old men, Athens' people thought they are irreproachable, the true leaders of this city. They invented democracy and the people believed they live in freedom, but how wrong they were. Themistocles felt no regret about his deeds, why should he? He just took the opportunity to punish those who wronged him, and soon he will be the leader of Athens. He was interrupred by loud footstep – Artemisia. He could recognize this woman' strides of a thousand other ones – she walked like she was marching to war, she walked with confidence and wrath. He recoignized the anger in her every feature. As he turned toward her he saw she wore a white chiton under the white himation, she looked ethereal in this color. Although he could tell the woman hated the clothes, she surely felt uncomfortable in them. As she saw he was looking at her flashed a fake smile.

„You look uneasy in these dresses." – he took the chance to speak sooner, and his comments made the effect: her bitter laugh barked between the trees, but she continued her way toward him and finally sat besid him on the stone bench.

„You certainly know how to make a woman feel better." – she did not look at him, just stared at the trees.

„Would you like to wear your armor, then?" – he did not look at her either and she was thankful for it. The thought of her battle clothes made her heart froze, she saw the armor she wore in her last battle. It was broken and gory. In a twisted way it reminded her of herown life, broken and twisted.

„Something like that. Or something which not floating around me when I take a step."

„Your problem is that you wear an Atheinan clothing. You should be thankful for..."

She just snarled and interrupted him „And, here it goes again, the gratitude. How many times you said I should thank you for this? To say thank you for dragging me here, to the place of my nightmares. – she shook her head a little and grinned – No, I will never say it."

Themistocles took a deep breath and tried not to scold her because of the ungratefulness. Or maybe she is the kind of person who never feels the need of say aloud these things, maybe it's her true personality and she did not do it from ungratefulness.

„How are you?"

She shrugged and said „Quite good, but I'm really bored with your house, soon I can start to train again. And you are boring too." – and a plan started to form in her head.

Themistocles just laughed at her comment „Do you think I'd give a sword to your hands? No, do not dare to even think of it."

She raised an eyebrow and turned to face with him. „Why, are you afraid from me, Greek?"

They looked deep into each other's eye for long moments and she saw the absence of mind in him. He thinks he could make a joke out of her?!

„My people were shocked when they learned you leading the navy against us. They kept asking how dare a woman stand and fight against us and lead an army. Some wanted pay for you, to capture you in the battle."

„And what do you think?" – she asked with eyes made from steel. She wanted him to believe she is his strongest opponent.

Then he slowly flashed a smile „I find it quite admirable."

They shared a little laugh, it felt good for him. Actually, her behavior was not what he was imagined he thought she will be escape or strangle him as soon as she can stand up.

„Well, it was a better flattering comment than the previous one. – she took a deep breath and decide to ask him – Why don't we go out for a walk together? You could show me the new buildings outside."

She looked into his eyes one more, and Themistocles felt the nervousness rising in him. Is it a trap? By the way, what kind of trap could it be? She is alone in here and she cannot run away in her condition. He just has to find a big, dark cloak for her. However, he was not happy about this whole thing.

„At night." – and he stood up and walked away.

Artemisia grinned when he left her, it went easier than she imagined, even if they'll go out at night. She can memorize the streets and she'll be able to remember the paths.

The night arrived in Athens, the glimmering light of the stars illuminated the city. The citizens worked really hard, Artemisia noticed it, but the woman could not put away the constant reminder of her failures. The woman managed to destroy this state to kill a huge amount of Greek men, but she failed in her last test. Artemisia looked the city with hatred. She wore a huge black cloak, it covered her from top to toe. When she asked Themistocles' inteds he said he do not want to put her in danger, hiding her identity is the best way. She almost smiled at this comment, the mighty politican was worried about her.

„So, this is your plan how to redeem me, you drag me into an empty market?" – she asked from him, there was too much silence.

„You wanted to walk, I just show you the way. Besides, we will go to the Court tomorrow so you need your energy, we won't go far away."

Then turn and go back you idiot, she wanted to say, they won't go anywhere near to the gates, therefore she won't know the road to it. She wanted to scream from the disappointment she felt. Artemisia wanted a strom , which could mach with her rage.

At the mention of the Court her stomach flinched, she just wanted to run away and be alone for her entire life.

„What will happen out there with me? Guess they'll sentence me to death."

Themistocles stopped and looked around to make sure no one watched them. She turned to him questioningly, when he decided to tell her the truth. After all, she just needs to play her role well.

„You will be acquitted, I arranged it earlier. I will be there with you, I just want to ask one thing from you: do not play with them, don't be arrogant with them, and don't deny your acts."

She laughed out loud, what he was thinking about her? Did she truly belive in this false redemtion? „I've never denied my deeds Themistocles, I take everything. I am not afraid from them, they are just ants beneath my boots. I don't care what you lie to me, if I'll be free again I'll crush them again and again, no matter how many times they'd stand up."

Artemisia could not deny the anger she felt in here, it was a poison to her which kills her slowly, painfully.

„What happened with you, truly? When?" – he asked, his eyes were full of concern. He always wanted to ask this but they did not have the opportunity to talk about this. Until now.

She took a deep breath, knowing well she must play excellently.

„It happened nearly 20 years ago, Hippias ruled in Athens that time. – for the name Themistocles raised his head and looked at her with say eyes, but she just wanted to slap him for taking pity upon her – I assume you know the tale, he was a bitter and cruel ruler. The Spartans helped here to exile him. One night in the middle of the riot our house burned down and we tried to espcae. While my father carried me in the streets…Hoplits thought we support Hippias, so…you know the rest of it. Your percious city won the freedom that night."

In fact, she had not play it with force, the pure rage was so huge in her that she spat the words with venom.

Themistocles felt sorry for Artemisia, as he imagined that rebellion. Indeed, it was the bloodiest event in Athens' history.

„I'm sorry to hear that, it was terrible for a little girl."

She just laughed bitterly again „You say it because it's expected of you, but you not about you? How you become the national hero? Care to share it with me?" – she knew the fragments but she wanted to hear it with her own ears.

„Well, my father was a poor Athenian, my mother was a Thracian so the people always said I am not a true Athenian. I've never attended to any kind of popular school, although I could always chose the right things in the matters, and as you noticed, I was always pushful. So, as the others saw my successes they began to mock me, but I never gave up, and…here I am."

Themistocles was seemed to be glad to share these things with Artemisia, he was proud of himself.

„They rejected you, but you was the one who dare to stood up for them. You have the balls for it. But be careful, who knows when the will betray you." – _little whispers…Artemisia, work!_

„No, they won't. I love Athens and it's people, except the ones who stood against me."

„I like your story. So, you bring justice for yourself, you take your revenge on the ones who look down on you."

He was quiet for a moment „A kind of vengeance, yes. Sweet thing, isn't it? They will learn to fear you."

She chuckled „Yes, as you say. You see, we have something in common."

They shared a laugh, and Artemisia decided to take advance on the situation. Maybe it will work, maybe not. She let out a deep breath and turned to Themistocles. In another life maybe…In here she is just a broken, mad soldier, nothing else. The man looked at her with passion and desire and the woman knew she could not find a better moment for it. Artemisia stepped closer to him and gently took his hands into hers, holding the eye contact, then closed her eyes and she kissed the man. The kiss started slowly, she took her time to taste him with her tongue then Themistocles deepened the kiss. She enjoyed it a little for a while but soon began to be bored and the woman was thankful when he released her. But she was careful, Artemisia did not want him to notice anything from it. She gently placed her hands into her chest, and whispered:

„I'm like a bird without feathers, a captured lion, I feel I will never escape from my wrath. My rage is like...a stone, I'm keep on carrying it with myself and it's heavy above my heart. I've spent a lot of years with planning my vengeance and I keep focused on my pain and losses, but I became cruel, mad and harsh. I feel I cannot live in peace and I never will if I always have to stand on a side. You offered me a choice, the Persians offered me a choice – the last one completely killed everything in me, you want to do it again with me, Themistocles? If you want to redeem me the best you can do is to release me. Release me and let me find my own wings, let me be a Phoenix."

Artemisia wanted to smile viciously, she thought for a moment it was a perfect speech, her vision became blurry from her tears.

But Themistocles was not impressed, he knew why she kissed him: she wanted to manipulate him again. „A nice speech with a fine kiss. You are good at manipulation, but you can't trick me, dear Artemisia. Turn back and go home."

„What, why?"

„You are lying to me, it's clear. Now, turn and go back."

He was angry, she could tell it from his voice. Artemisia froze – how can he detect her true intentions? She made a fool out of herself again! Her anger boiled up again, how she wanted to beat him to death. Soon, she thought, soon she will crush him too. The mighty hero, the poor politican will regret the rejection of her. „You are a fool." – she muttered and followed him.

* * *

In the distance a horse rushed in the road. The rider was tired and angry, he got the dirtiest job, of course, the messenger. Mardonius permitted two days in the city but he doubted he could use it. Soon, Athens will fall again.


	8. A bird without feathers

**I want to thank you for all of those who left me a review, you guys are the best!**

**Apologize for the late update again I had to edit the chapters.**

**I want to express my gratitude for Stayce, for his letters and for his encouraging words. Really, you helping me a lot, and again, thank you for your kind words and for letting me send you endless letters : )**

**8 – A bird without feathers**

The world rebelled against Artemisia, she felt it in her guts. She felt ashamed for the last night's event, and Themistocles did not help her either.

'_Are you mad? You think you can fool me? Don't you have a little self esteem, Artemisia?'_

Shame took over the control of her mind, could she be more awkward than that? Of course this ridiculous hero can resist everything she offers to him, she should know by now that she has no chance to escape from this damned city. And it seemed that Xerxes was not interested in her well being either – she is alone now.

As they walked in Athens last night the memories returned. The fire, soldiers slaughtering the citizens, her home is in ruins, her father running desperatedly with her, her mother promising her safety. She remembered for the burning Athens and the woman thought if she takes her revenge on them her wrath will disappear. No, it did not happen. Seeing Athens in ruins again just brought up the bitter feelings, not the coveted satisfaction. Strange. Destruction cannot give her happiness anymore.

Artemisia had a nightmare again, she saw the fire which destroyed her home long ago, she saw the death of her family again and again and again. She saw the slave ship she was on for years, but a new dream appeared: the victims of her ruthless sword. Artemisia never bothered herself with killing, but in this dawn she thought about them. How many people died because of her? How they lived? How many children she left without a father? How many men she took from their lover's hand, causing the women to become widows? The guilt overwhelmed her, the dark haired woman felt the weight of it and it's nearly crushed her. She wanted to scream and fight, she wanted to run away.

And on top of that, she is going to introduce herself to the Court in Athens, some old men will bring justice in her case and the nation will finally have revenge on her. What a strange thing, she thought she is the only one who deserves to have a claim for justice, not them.

The woman heard someone entered to her room, so she turned to face with her visitor.

„I brought you clothes, hope you like it."

Ah, it was Ione, the perfect little girl. She looked like a nymph in her blindingly bright white dress, her golden toned brown hair nearly reached her waist. Artemisia immediately became jealous of her hair, she always wanted a longer one - as long as her mother's hair was once.

She took the clothes from her and she raised her eyebrows.

„A white one, again? I've had enough of this color." – and she tossed it into her bed.

„You going to the Court, I thought this color could represent your…it could be show you in a better light."

Ione stood in front of her, looked hurt. It annoyed Artemisia more, she could not stand the weakness of this girl for God's sake! She sighed angrily and sat down.

„If you want to show to the others my true features then you'd better bring me a black one with boots. You can also grab my sword and bring it to me." – she grinned to the frightened girl.

She missed her sword more than anything, it was the symbol of her strength. She decided to take it back from Themistocles – naturally, if she survives this day.

„I don't think he would allow it."

Artemisia frowned at this, but she knew it exactly. That bastard left her nothing to play with. Besides, her wound was nearly perfectly healed, she has to start training as soon as possible.

Ione moved closer to her and sat down at the other edge of the bed. Artemisia smiled a little at this gesture – the girl was obviously still afraid.

„I made this dress to you, I'd be glad if you decide to wear it. This form seems to be popular nowadays. – she said with an honest smile and she took something from her right hand: a necklace. It was Artemisia's necklace, a Huma bird. – I thought you would like to keep it with you."

She gave the necklace to her, the woman was shocked from this gesture. How did she know? Did she know it, after all? „Where did you get it?"

Ione looked down in embarrassment „You wore it under your armour. I had to took it off."

As Artemisia held the medallion in her hands she felt the power slowly returning into her. Huma, a bird of paradise, a symbol of resurrection. She always liked it's tale, and when his mentor Dâtuvahya found this out he gave this necklace to her. A pure symbol of power and fortune. Does she belongs to the Persians? Of course. She was so taken aback by the jewel she almost forgot where she was, and she knew she could not wear it in front of everyone. The woman decided wearing it is not necessary, keeping it with her is enough power.

„You know I can't wear it, but I will keep it with myself. – and she said two words. Two words she said from pure joy – Thank you."

She had no time to froze, Artemisia just smiled to the girl with some kind of joy she barely experienced before.

„Do not thank me, it was yours." – and her face became more and more red.

Artemisia was a little bit surprised by this generous act, the woman almost smiled too but a sudden thought stopped her: she has a purpose, a game to play. She cannot let any kind of emotion to get in her way, she only has to be nice because of her role. But she can ask questions, after all.

„Where are your family?"

Ione looked down to the floor,her good mood immediately changed to sadness.

„My mother died in a fire, and my father mourned her so much he died soon after her."

Artemisia sighed in a strange relief- she did not kill her entire family after all. This girl, Ione have been suffered a lot recently and Artemisia noticed she took pity on her instead of hatred. The girl was a lot like the 8-year-old Artemisia, a kind, loving, shy, gentle one with naive ways. And she healed her, she did not even try to poison her, so… What she supposed to say now? Sorry?

„I'm sorry your father and mother."

Artemisia was astonished by her own words, did she really say sorry? And that's it, it was easy to say, wasn't it? She wanted to smile on herself, she became so weak. Maybe it was because of her whole personality, that she healed her instead of killing her right after she found her in this bed. Ione looked at her surprised, she clearly did not belive that Artemisia can speak like a human.

„Thank you." - and she saw the tears in Ione's eyes.

Artemisia decided to let her lead the conversation, she craved for company. Back in Persia she did not need any kind of company, she was too busy with planning the war and training both herself and soldiers. And she was too busy with her inner pain.

„I wanted to poison you."

Artemisia froze for a moment, Ione's words came like thunder, like another sword in her stomach. The woman just thought about her innocent demeanor and finally, she felt some strange happiness because of her gestures. Sudden change of heart – too sudden. A small laughter came from Artemisia's throat.

„Look at you, who would have thought you can stand up for yourself. I am amazed."

Artemisia continued to smile while the girl in front of her put up her hands in protest.

„I thought of it for only a moment but then I quickly dismissed the idea."

„Why?"

Why you let me live, why you let me be here, why are you so unable to finish me? I wanted to die, it would be the best choice for me and for you, and for everyone. Artemisia wanted to scream, wanted to ask these questions, but the woman knew that would be a fatal fault. She and Themistocles could see her when she was weak due to the injuries, but never more. She will never let someone see her like that, no more weakness and awkward actions.

„I am no God, I am no one to decide who lives or who dies. I swore an oath to myself to never kill anyone, yet I did think of poisioning. And I felt myself the dirtiest being for days. – Ione looked up – I'm sorry, I had to tell you this."

Artemisia thought for a moment before she answered to her.

„Don't you want to avenge him? Why don't you want to kill me? I killed your brother, the only one person you had. I took away him from you as I possibly took away your house, everything with destroying this city. Why are you so merciful?"

The woman was really interested in the answers, and she felt her back tensed. Ah, like when she felt the coming fights!

Ione looked at her with determined eyes „The Court will decide your fate today. If they'll release you I accept their decision. But if they'll find you guilty do not hope mercy from anyone. You caused a big turmoil in here."

Artemisia raised an eyebrow „Why, when? Funny how I can cause turmoil when I speak to no one but you and Themistocles. At least I have fame in all of Greece." – she smiled with that mocking expression when she found out that the Greeks sent a spy to her ship.

„When he brought you to Athens everyone wanted to kill you instantly, people are murmuring about you all the time. They know the Court will judge you today, probably all citizens are standing in the streets waiting for you."

She made a vicious face, let them come and get the show they want. „I assume everyone will enjoy as the Court will sentence me to death in the name of justice and freedom. And I'm not planning to take away that pleasure from them, worry not dear Ione."

„Are you blaming them?" – Ione asked with a frightened tone.

Gods, she cannot believe this girl is so foolish. What does she know about pain, loss and death? What does she know about never ending fights? What does she even know about her? Nothing. Her loss cannot be compared to Artemisia's loss. Her hands began to shake as she tried to suppress her anger.

„I'm blaming whole Athens and Sparta." – she said with a deathly tone.

The girl looked into her eyes, probably for the first time since Artemisia know her, but Ione was too weak to stand the dark haired woman's gaze.

„Do you require any help for dressing up?"

Artemisia sent her another angry glare „No. Did I ever ask your help?"

Ione looked down in embarrassment before she stood up and quickly left the room.

The woman stood up and sighed again. Why she failed so miserably? The revenge she planned for nearly twenty years almost seemed to take shape, when she left Sardis hope started to fill her mind and soul – a hope of light, a hope of victory. It's just not right to fall down so suddenly it's just not right to loose everything she gained through her whole life. Maybe it will end today, if they sentence her to death at least the awful pain could go away.

Artemisia stood in front of the house's entrance, waiting for Themistocles to escort her to her trial. The dress Ione made her was a perfect one, she totally guessed her size and made a beautiful, floating dress for her – a shame she cannot wear it properly. This dress would belong to some honorable, respectable, gentle woman not to her. She is everything but not gentle. The woman put her necklace into one of the little pockets Ione made to the dress. She lost her sword, her symbol of strength, but the promise of resurrection stayed with her.

And then, the man appeared and Artemisia felt shame took over her. She felt ashamed for her behavior and for that incident back on the ship. Another failures she could not delete from her memory and it made difficult to hold the man's gaze. Themistocles wore his white chiton and Artemisia could not ignore the thought that they are going to look like a pair. She found it quite odd – a pair of what? Criminals maybe.

„Seems you like to imitate me, Themistocles."

The man flashed her a beautiful smile, that dangerous smile she saw when he said he has plans for her. „Seems you like to dress up as an Athenian. Light colors give you a nicer look."

Artemisia's smile almost fell, but she decided to guard her every motion. She won't break, never again.

„Can we go? I'm bored."

Of course that was the last thing she wanted to do, she just wanted to get over with the whole ceremony and come what may. Sooner or later it will happen, no matter what Themistocles told her. She was not afraid from death, never. She was afraid of Athens.

Themistocles raised an eyebrow „I did not believe you'd be so eager to go to into the lion's den."

Then he cautiusly stepped closer to her, his eyes were so intimidating for Artemisia, she just wanted to break the eye contact with him and run away from this place.

„What if I told you I do not go with you?" – she said with an almsot innocent smile.

„You have no choice." – he stopped right in front of her, the man was so close to Artemisia she could feel his breath in her cheeks.

„Yes I do have a choice."

„What might that be?"

„I could have been sent a letter to Xerxes or just escape from this city, maybe I'm planning to escape now. I could bring you into a very, very dangerous situation, Themistocles."

They stood like this for long moments his breath touched her skin every time he took air, she even stepped a little bit closer to him.

„You could not. Besides, I told you you have nothing to fear from. You can stay alive."

This sounded too good, too pure to believe in. A thousand thought flashed into Artemisia's mind while she just smiled and placed her hands to her hip. „If I do what?"

„Hold your tongue."

Themistocles smiled absent-mindedly to her which just increased her anger, she digged her fingers into her skin – her nearly healed wound felt it and a sea of pain rushed through her body. Her eyes grew bigger she knew it, but she did not even flinch.

„You asking an impossible thing."

„You was quite admirable last night in regard of speaking. Use this skill of yours now."

Another absent-minded smile spread across Themistocles' face and he opened the door, motivating her to follow him. Artemisia felt both nervous and ashamed. How dare he speak about last night! If she had a sword…She took a deep breath and stepped out from the house into the winter daylight. Artemisia realized she was praying. She secretly prayed to Huma to give her power. Power to smash her enemies.

_The great naval commander, Artemisia is dead – _they said. She fell from the sword of Themistocles, the hero of Marathon and Salamis – they said. Stupid pigs, the woman is alive and she definitely wants to return to the Empire, she desperately searching the opportunity to escape from Athens and return to Xerxes' army - this is why Xerxes sent him instead of someone. The great god-king trusted him enough to allow him to do this task, to bring Artemisia back to Persia. The mighty king was addicted to this whore, Alexander could tell it. The king believes he will bring back his favorite commander, but actually he has another plans for her. As he thought about vengeance a wide smile spread across his face. Back in the Empire no one knew what was going on here, a trial will be hold in Artemisia's case – Alexander laughed histerically when he thought about the irony of the situation.

„Is there anything I can do for you, m'lord?"

Since he arrived everyone seems to be more than happy to have him at this state, even the servants. Alexander decided to both avoid and help the two enemies, Persia and Greece since the war started. No one knows who wins this conflict, but he knows one thing: he wants to stand at the winning side. Therefore, he always acts as his interests wishes – and know he needs Athens to fall again, everyone knew that, except the Athenians. The dark haired boy stood in front of him, avoiding eye contact. Alexander likes when someone does not look into his eyes, a certain gesture of fear, respect.

„Fetch me more wine." - he said in a sniffy tone.

As the boy went away to bring him something to drink Alexander could not stop his gloating thoughts, soon he will stand at the Agora and watch Artemisia's trial. What a sudden turn of events, not so long ago she assassinated all the members of the Persian Council – including his brother – and now she becomes a target too. As he took a sip from his wine he could feel the taste of victory. He won't bring the woman back to the Empire if she survives the coming events, he will take her life away personally.


End file.
